


Background World

by grand_mephy



Series: Rivals in a Dangerous Spacetime [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Chapter 5 Spoilers, Gen, Missing Scene, Songfic, you know which one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11976174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grand_mephy/pseuds/grand_mephy
Summary: [NDRV3 SPOILERS]Momota straightens all of a sudden. His coat sways listlessly when he turns, to face him, to speak through bloodied teeth."We're going for a walk."Ouma frowns harder."What?""We're going," Momota says as he drags him by the arm, "for a walk."Bend down. Can you hear them?





	Background World

**Author's Note:**

> This was inevitable, really.
> 
> Title and lyrics borrowed from "Background World" by Nine Inch Nails. I recommend listening to it in your own time. In the last eight minutes the beat loops 52 times, slowly killing itself, each loop more horrifying than the last.
> 
> A 53rd loop starts but is abruptly cut off.

 

 

 

 

 

Momota straightens all of a sudden. His coat sways listlessly when he turns, to face him, to speak through bloodied teeth.  
  
"We're going for a walk."  
  
Ouma frowns harder.  
  
"What?"  
  
"We're going," Momota says as he drags him by the arm, "for a walk."

 

 

 

 

 

_You left me here_  
  
_What am I supposed to do?_  
  
_I never dared to look inside_  
  
_Just li ke you told me to_

 

 

 

 

 

"This is stupid," Ouma says.  
  
Momota pinches him on the shoulder. "It's not," he insists, eyes roving the night sky of their prison. "It's a better sight than that depressing place, isn't it? Come on." He gestures above. "Stars and shit. Pretty, aren't they?"  
  
All Ouma notices is the ventilated air that pricks them, stung with the scent of blood and metal. The stars dance in his vision.  
  
He says indignantly, "You want me to die like this. Under that."  
  
"What's wrong with that?"  
  
Ouma looks at him. "They're fake, Momota-chan."  
  
"Don't be stupid. Course they aren't."  
  
It's a while before Momota looks at him again. Flanked by shadows, he looks deader than ever. His words are anything but; from the way he speaks, he sounds far removed from his inevitable death, from the reality of their situation.  
  
He's stalling for time. He can't go through with killing him.  
  
Ha. Figures.  
  
"The EMP won't last for long," he says, stopping Momota mid-rant. "You made a promise to kill me, you know. Or were you lying again when you said that?"  
  
"There it is again," Momota grumbles. He shifts inside the cockpit of the borrowed Exisal, legs bumping against Ouma's in the narrow space. "Can't you go through one sentence without saying that word?"  
  
"Yep, you are dumb."  
  
Momota raises a finger. "New rule. You can't say that word anymore."  
  
"If I say it, will you kill me?"  
  
"Second rule," Momota adds without missing a beat. "You don't say that word either."  
  
Ouma pouts against his better judgement. "Taking all my words... Are you doing this to make me as dumb as you?"  
  
Momota pinches him again.

 

 

 

 

 

_I'm going into you again_  
  
_I know you saw it  too_  
  
_And I will keep myself awake_  
  
_I know  what’s coming_  
  
_I feel  it's rea ching  throu gh_

 

 

 

 

 

"My third grade teacher said that people who swear a lot are lazy in expressing themselves."  
  
"Are you kidding me? It isn't lazy! It's, you know, a figure of speech! Straight to the point, and all that." Momota scoffs. "Your teacher's a sissy. Tell him to loosen up a little."  
  
"Her."  
  
"Yeah, whatever."  
  
Ouma rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. "Momota-chan, I keep telling you, I'm not going to make it out of this game alive.  _Because_  you are going to  _mu~urder_  me."  
  
Momota squawks. "Hey, that's cheating!"  
  
"Nishishi... It's not hard to deceive someone like you."  
  
"I caught that! No synonyms!"  
  
Ouma tries stifling a cough. Momota pats him on the back.  
  
"Let it out," he says, far too empathic for Ouma's taste. "Don't make that face. Why do you always have to put up a fucking act? It's annoying..."  
  
"I could ask you," Ouma clears his throat, "the same thing."  
  
Momota falls silent.  
  
"You could have died and no one would have known why. They'd think you were murdered. They'd suspect each other. Destroy the trust you worked so hard to build." Ouma smiles despite the hiccups clawing his throat. "Monokuma would've made a spectacle out of your death; I doubt he'd waste your corpse like that. The entertainment factor and all... If it were up to me... I'd vote suicide." His eyes crinkle in amusement. "Ha, and Harukawa-chan would vote for me."  
  
"She's not that stupid," Momota says quietly.  
  
"Do you really want to discuss that?"  
  
Momota meets his gaze. "Don't. Don't you start. People do reckless things all the time. It's what makes them do the things they regret.  
  
"I don't blame her. Not one bit. It's that bastard Monokuma who's at fault. He put us in this situation in the first place. Giving us rules, forcing motives on us... that's what killed us. Why we're here now."  
  
Ouma snorts. "Making excuses for each other. That's sweet."  
  
He hears teeth grind. "That's  _rich_ , coming from a fucker like you. ' _I'm a player of this game!_ ' ' _I'm the mastermind!_ ' — no wonder Harumaki tried to kill you." Momota pokes him on the chest, hard. "You brought this on yourself, Ouma. It doesn't matter if you did it for us, you arrogant, lying  _shit_."  
  
Ouma stares at his finger. The little nail crusted with pink.  
  
He says, "You broke the rules."  
  
Momota smolders.

 

 

 

 

 

_There is no  mo ving past_  
  
_Ther e  is no better  plac e_  
  
_There  is no fu ture  poi nt in  time_  
  
_We  will  not  get   aw ay_

 

 

 

 

 

"It doesn't hurt."  
  
"Liar."  
  
"It doesn't!" Ouma ignores the scratch in his throat. "Here, punch me really hard. I  _promise_  I won't make a sound."  
  
Momota groans. "Are you even capable of telling the truth? At all?"  
  
"Yep, you are dumb."  
  
" _You_  — goddamnit."  
  
Ouma laughs. Actually laughs. His throat seizes with the motion and he coughs, splendidly, ugly globs of saliva flying out of his mouth. He tastes bile. He sees blurs.  
  
"Let it out," Momota says.  
  
Ouma snipes, " _You_  let it out."  
  
"I'm just trying to help!"  
  
"Ha! You can't dazzle me like the others. I know you, Momota-chan. Mister Hero, Mister Manly, Mister I Can Handle My Problems All By Myself. The hero that can't fall apart... not when everyone needs his help. Oh, but," Ouma tilts his head, even as dizziness takes ahold, "how tragic. The only way Momota-chan can help the others is by killing me. Mister Villain... Mister Mastermind."  
  
Momota glares. "Is that how it is? Me against you? Is that how it'll always be?"  
  
"Our own little arc," Ouma chirps.  
  
He expects him to shout, to swear, to crush his windpipe. But Momota slumps into their seat and digs the heel of his palm to his eyes. Sweat beads on his forehead. His breaths turn shallow.  
  
"Let it out," Ouma says.  
  
He doesn't.  
  
"What're you waiting for? Hypocrite..."  
  
With only seconds to hesitate, Momota coughs into his palm. Blood drips from the gaps between his fingers.  
  
"You must be glad I gave you that antidote... huh? I bet you'd be feeling twice as worse... if I hadn't."  
  
"I... don't know about that. I mean..." Momota peers from where he hunches. "I wouldn't have to kill anyone, then."  
  
Ouma's vision blurs.

 

 

 

 

 

_T he  w or ld  is  bl e edin g  o ut_  
  
_It  fo lds    its elf  in tw o_  
  
_Be hin d   the  backgro und  wor ld_  
  
_It' s    alw ays    bl e  edi ng    thro ug h_

 

 

 

 

 

"Is there anything that isn't fake here?"  
  
"The fakeness isn't fake," Ouma says, sounding like he swallowed a bag of nails. He didn't have to respond. He got a free pass a while ago. But he continues anyway. "Then again, what is fake? Fake things become real because people think they're real, so. If that's the case. Is it ever really fake..? Or can it ever be real..? Then what's the point of reality? What makes something real, the fact that it is real, or that someone thinks its real? Hey, Momota-chan? Am I real?"  
  
"... Yes."  
  
"Ah, but, how are you sure? Huh? Huh..?"  
  
"Because I can do this," and Momota pinches him hard, on the cheek. Ouma tamps down the urge to vomit.  
  
"You don't get it," he sulks. "You dumb astronaut. If that's what you really are."  
  
Momota looks at the stars. "I mean," he says. Licks his lips. "I couldn't even fucking tell they were wrong. The constellations."  
  
Ouma looks with him. "Maybe you were made to believe in that lie."  
  
"You say they're watching. This audience... can they see me now?"  
  
"They shouldn't. The EMP, remember..?"  
  
Momota flips off the sky.  
  
He shouts, "Take that you bastards!"  
  
"I told you, dumb Momota-chan," Ouma sighs, "any cameras should be down. Besides," his eyes rove around the wide green field, "there isn't even one near us."  
  
"No, I can feel it! Them looking down on us." Momota cranes his neck. "You think the stars are cameras?"  
  
"I think," Ouma breathes. "I think... I'm gonna die now."

 

 

 

 

 

_A re  you  s ure_  
  
_( This  is  w hat  yo u  wa nt?  )_  
  
_Ar e  y ou  su r e_  
  
_(    T h is    is  w h at  y ou   wa nt ?  )_  
  
  
_A re   y  o u   su r  e_

  
_(       T h  i s    is    w h a t    y o u    w a n  t ?     )_

 

 

 

 

 

It hurts. It hurts so much.  
  
"I hate murder."  
  
He can't go on for long. He can feel the poison settling in his bones, slow, numbing. Numb, slow. Muscle turning to lead. Teeth turning to glass. Blood still pink.  
  
"I need people to rely on me."  
  
His eyes clench shut. Phosphenes flit in darkness.  
  
"I'm worried for Saihara-chan."  
  
The Exisal trods slowly. Each step lulls him closer to eternal slumber.  
  
"I'm jealous of him."  
  
The hatch is still open. The stars still watch from above. Billions and billions of pinpricks of light, watching them closely.  
  
"I don't want to die."  
  
He doesn't want to die.

  
  
He doesn't want to die.

 

  
  
He doesn't want to die.

 

 

  
  
"... I wish you were still lying."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_A   r  e    y o u       s  u r e_

 

_A     r   e        y  o   u               s    u  r      e_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Can you hear  them?_


End file.
